After hours of practicing healing magic with Aunt Clarisse, Baker finally retreated to his room. The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the curtains, dust motes dancing lazily in the warm, golden light. He sank onto the edge of his bed, exhausted but wide awake in thought.
He ran a hand through his chestnut hair, staring at the floor. What path should I take?
He considered the options, weighing them carefully.
Healer — He could use the skills Clarisse had taught him, applying mana to mend wounds, cure illnesses, and help the sick. There was immense satisfaction in seeing someone restored to health, but it also came with heavy responsibility and constant fatigue. He would need to push his mana limits, especially if he wanted to help more than a few people at a time.
Chef — Cooking already filled him with joy. With his blessings, he could imbue dishes with subtle mana, enhancing taste and perhaps even wellness. He could nourish people, make them stronger, happier, even heal them slowly through carefully prepared meals. Food could change the world in small but meaningful ways.
Warrior — Combat was tempting. Being able to defend people, face monsters and threats directly. But he didn't feel drawn to it in the same way. Power without purpose… seemed hollow.
He leaned back, fingers lacing behind his head. And then there's the blessing I'll awaken when I come of age. The thought made his chest tingle with both excitement and anxiety. Would it suit a healer? A chef? A warrior? Or would it be something entirely different — a blessing meant to shape the world in ways he couldn't yet imagine?
He closed his eyes, envisioning his dishes — steaming bowls of Mandearoz stew, fragrant loaves of bread, omelets bursting with flavor and care. He imagined soups that could restore vitality and strength, each spoonful carefully prepared to mend both body and spirit.
Maybe… maybe improving the world through cooking isn't so small after all.
Mana could heal, blessings could enhance, and food — food could reach everyone. Poor, rich, commoner, noble — all would benefit. And if he combined his healing magic with his cooking, he could give the world a gift far beyond simple nourishment.
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, mind buzzing with possibilities. He could become a healer of bodies, a warrior of justice, or a chef who mended hearts. And perhaps… he could do all three in his own way, in his own time.
The quiet of the room embraced him, and Baker felt something he hadn't in a long time — a sense of calm certainty, a faint spark of purpose. He would find his path. He would grow stronger, learn more, and when the time came, he would use every blessing, every skill, and every dish to make the world a little brighter.
Pulling the blanket over his shoulders, he let his mind wander over recipes, spells, and possibilities. Slowly, his breathing evened, and the soft glow of his Magic God's Blessing hummed faintly in his chest.
The day had been long. The world was vast. And yet, as he drifted toward sleep, Baker felt ready to face whatever lay ahead — whether it was healing, cooking, or something else entirely.